


no grave (can hold my body down)

by summerhuntresses



Category: Gideon the Ninth - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, gtn2019exchange, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22220686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerhuntresses/pseuds/summerhuntresses
Summary: After Harrow passes out in a bone cocoon, Gideon takes care of her while studiously avoiding any inconvenient revelations.
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 121





	no grave (can hold my body down)

**Author's Note:**

> this is dedicated to my gtn exchange partner, mjsbookshelf on tumblr. tyvm for the awesome prompt!

Gideon could say, with great certainty, that she had never once been concerned about the wellbeing of Harrowhark Nonagesimus. She had been concerned about the  _ actions _ of Harrowhark Nonagesimus in the past, and how said actions would impact her own life in new and unpleasant ways, but the actual physical wellbeing of the Reverend Daughter of the Ninth was not something she lost sleep fretting over.

That being said, it was  _ extremely _ disconcerting to find herself fretting over Harrow now. Gideon had initially laid her down and simply wiped the blood and dirt off her face, worried about the other woman waking up in a fury over her ‘gross overstep’, but now…

Well, Harrow had been unconscious for hours and Gideon was starting to worry about her necromancer.

She had already cleaned Harrow up as much as she could without undressing her - worried or not, that was a boundary that she was  _ not _ willing to cross - and now she was just… waiting. Waiting for the woman to wake up.

It was difficult to keep her eyes away from Harrow, honestly. Gideon knew that she wasn’t going to just stop breathing in her sleep, but the image of her lying there covered in dirt and blood and bone wouldn’t leave her alone.

Honestly, Gideon had never really noticed just how  _ small _ the woman was. True, Gideon wasn’t exactly small herself, but she had to have a good foot on Harrow and at least a hundred pounds. Looking closer, Gideon realized that she could see the individual bones in Harrow’s wrist jutting out against her skin.

“Well, fuck.” She sighed and sat back, arguing with herself even as she knew that she was going to do something stupid. “I mean, I know  _ I _ wouldn’t want to lay around for Ninth knows how long marinating in my own filth. It would be too much of a temptation for the Eighth, at the very least.” Gideon nodded decisively, smacking a palm on the bed in emphasis and nearly jostling Harrow onto the floor. “Whoops. I’m doing my  _ duty _ , Nonagesimus. That’s what you’ve wanted me to do for  _ ages. _ ”

Harrow, still unconscious, did not respond.

Gideon sighed and stood. “Look, I know this is weird, but… You’re  _ tiny _ , Nonagesimus. Your name is bigger than you are, for Necrolord’s sake!” She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t care what you have to say about it, I am  _ getting _ you in clean clothes if it  _ kills the both of us _ .”

Mind made up, Gideon moved quickly to avoid pussying out. Hauling Harrow into a sitting position with one hand, she stripped her out of her heavy outer robe with the other, immediately encountering a dilemma when she realized that she needed a third hand to keep Harrow upright. 

“Aw, fuck.”

Never once in her life had Gideon ever even considered the possibility of hugging Harrow. It would have been like hugging a spiked mace, if the mace was malevolent and actively trying to remove Gideon’s ribcage with its teeth. Six year old Gideon would have run away from anyone suggesting the idea to her. Twelve year old Gideon would have done her level best to break their kneecap. The Gideon from a week ago would have laughed until she cried.

The Gideon of the here and now had Harrow in what could only be described as an embrace as she struggled to pull Harrow’s damp and disgusting undershirt over her head.

“How did you even manage to get this gross, Nonagesimus? I thought you were all about dignity and shit, this is just  _ nasty. _ ” Gideon took an experimental sniff of the shirt, recoiling and chucking it across the room nearly immediately. “If we didn’t pack so light I would burn that, Harrow.  _ Burn it. _ ”

Sitting back, Gideon looked at the girl in her lap, Harrow’s absolute stillness highlighting just how small she really was. Gideon frowned, running a gentle finger over the ribs visible on her side. “Damn, Harrow, what’s  _ wrong _ with you?” She pulled a new shirt over the other woman’s head with none of the haste she had felt earlier, taking care not to jostle the necromancer. “Eat a sandwich, witch bitch.”

Her hands betrayed her, though, smoothing the shirt down Harrow’s side with care and sliding back up to carefully extricate a few straggly curls from the collar. She stroked the woman’s hair absentmindedly, lost in thought and ignoring the weirdly damp feel.

A shiver under her hand made her frown. “I guess all your energy goes to being a prick and not to keeping yourself warm.” She stood and grabbed her spare cloak from her blanket nest, wrapping it around Harrow. “That seems kind of stupid, Harrow. Just sayin’.” She pulled the other woman back into her arms as she tied the cord around Harrow’s neck.

Harrow shifted slightly in her arms, brows furrowing and a soft grumble rolling from her throat. Gideon looked down at her in surprise. “What? Not used to people touching you, Reverend Daughter?” She stroked a hand down the side of Harrow’s head firmly, the nearly rough touch seeming to calm the woman. Gideon snorted. “It can never be easy with you, huh?”

A knock on the door startled Gideon badly, arms tightening around her necromancer and eyes darting toward the chest at the foot of the bed with the hidden longsword.

“Gideon? Gideon, it’s me. Palamedes Sextus. Of the Sixth. And Camila as well.”

Rolling her eyes, Gideon gently laid Harrow back against the cushions before getting up to throw the door open. “Sorry, I’m not sure I know who you are. Do you have some ID or something to make it clearer?”

The door swung open to reveal Palamedes frowning at her. “Ninth, I’m positive you should be able to recognize who I am from my name and House. Are you feeling all right? Did you take a blow to the head down there?”

He put a hand up, seeming to try and check her forehead for a fever before Camila smacked his wrist down, glaring exasperatedly at Gideon. “I honestly preferred it when you didn’t talk, Ninth.”

Gideon gasped dramatically, clutching her hands to her chest. “Are you saying you don’t  _ love _ my wit, charm, and dashing good looks, Cam?” She dropped her hands and grinned her most obnoxious grin, the one that made Harrow froth at the mouth and bleed from the eyes in rage. “Bullshit.”

Palamedes swung his gaze between the women, uncertainty written across his features. “I… don’t know what’s happening right now. But! I wanted to come by and check on the Reverend Daughter. She overexerted herself badly when she did whatever she did, but she should be fine. Cam and I checked her over briefly and she showed no signs of shock or physical trauma beyond the exertion. Try and keep her warm just in case.” He smiled reassuringly at Gideon. “She needs rest, and a lot of it, but she’ll be on her feet terrorizing the Fourth before you have time to enjoy the quiet.”

Cam sighed from her place at his side. “Somehow I get the feeling that the rest of us will never get to enjoy peace and quiet. Ever again.”

Throwing her a wink, Gideon said, “Admit it, you like my braggadocious tenacity.”

Cam blinked. “Nav, do you even know what that means?”

Shrugging, Gideon told her, “No, but it sounds awesome.”

“How did you even  _ hear _ that phrase, Nav?” Cam looked perplexed, which increased the range of facial expressions Gideon had seen her wear by a factor of two.

Gideon shrugged again. “Nonagesimus yelled it at me when we were like twelve. No idea what it means or where she picked it up, but it sounds cooler than anything I got from  _ Necrotits Prime,  _ volumes three through eleven, so I stole it for my own use.” She grinned. “Good, huh?”

Camila and Palamedes shared a look that Gideon couldn’t interpret before turning back to her. “You know what, Ninth?” Palamedes sounded more uncomfortable than anything else as he addressed her. “I think you’ve got this handled on your own. Just… just keep her warm and comfortable and don’t let her get out of bed for the next twelve hours at least.” He was in motion before the words finished leaving his mouth.

Cam watched him go with a raised eyebrow before turning to Gideon. “Good luck, Nav. She seems like she’ll be a  _ fun _ patient.” She left immediately, missing Gideon’s one-finger salute as she went.

Gideon slammed the door childishly, muttering curses under her breath as she did so. When her eyes landed on Harrow again she deflated, the irritation draining from her at the sight of Harrow practically swimming in Gideon’s spare cloak. 

She sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the edges of the cloak tighter around Harrow’s throat. “I can see you shivering, Nonagesimus. That’s honestly pathetic, it’s practically tropical here compared to the Ninth.” Sighing, Gideon stood up once more and picked Harrow up in a bridal carry. Several minutes of cursing and jostling and nearly dropping her necromancer later, Gideon had managed to tuck the other woman under both the blankets and her spare cloak.

Harrow twitched, brow furrowing again and head rolling from side to side. “No… construct….. how...” She muttered random words in her sleep, anger and fear written on her face as she did so. 

“Hey. Hey, Nonagesimus.” Gideon shook her gently, not wanting to harm her further after the unpleasant bone incident from earlier. Harrow didn’t respond beyond tossing her head away from Gideon, muttering continuing unabated. Gideon shook her harder. “Nonagesimus. Hey.  _ Harrow _ .”

The other woman shot straight up in bed, eyes suddenly wide open and blazing. “ _ No grave can hold my body down _ , Nav.” 

Gideon yelped and fell backwards, tumbling straight off the bed. “What the  _ fuck _ , Harrow!”

Harrow glared at her. “It’s freezing in here.”

Sitting up, Gideon stared incredulously. “It’s  _ cold? _ You wake up from a fucking coma spouting that creepy bullshit and your concern is that it’s  _ cold?” _

Harrow hunched in on herself, frowning as she snapped, “What are you talking about, Nav?” She drew the cloak further around herself, not seeming to recognize who it actually belonged to. 

“ _ Ugh _ .” Gideon pointed at her accusingly. “You are  _ weird _ , Nonagesimus. Weird and  _ lucky. _ ” 

Her finger, righteously jabbing toward Harrow, faltered somewhat when Gideon noticed the shivers wracking Harrow’s frame. She looked around helplessly, but there were no more blankets to be seen in the room and no other people either. Gideon sighed. “If you bite me I’m letting you fend for yourself, you gremlin.”

“What-”

Harrow’s question was cut off by Gideon flinging herself over Harrow to crash land next to her. She immediately grabbed Harrow around the waist and bodily hauled the smaller woman into her arms, wrapping her in her own cloak and drawing the blankets up around them both. Harrow spluttered, arms flailing pathetically.

The sight of Harrow in the throes of speechless bafflement was somehow endearing, a thought that Gideon shoved into the deepest recesses of her brain to never,  _ ever _ revisit.

“ _ What are you doing Nav. _ ” 

Gideon shrugged. “Sex Pal said you had to rest and you had to stay warm. You generate zero body heat on your own because you took ‘bone necromancer’ too literally, so really this is your own fault.” She relaxed back into the pillows, dragging Harrow halfway onto her chest and pointedly not making eye contact as she desperately tried to maintain her chill.

Harrow continued to flail. “This is utterly inappropriate get your hands off me I am fine this is unnecessary what kind of cavalier do you think you are.” Despite her words, Gideon could feel the shivers receding, her own body heat making its way past the shell of ice that Harrow kept wrapped around herself.

She tucked Harrow’s arms into the blanket. “If you sleep for twelve hours without being a prissy bitch I promise I won’t make fun of you about this for the next twelve to fourteen years.”

Grumbling, Harrow let herself be manhandled. “ _ Fine _ .”

“Fine.”

(Neither of them ever mentioned how they woke up - with Harrow’s head nestled under Gideon’s chin and Gideon’s hands up Harrow’s shirt. Except that Gideon  _ totally _ did and Harrow absolutely tried to murder her for it.)


End file.
